Clair de Lune
In the darkness I hear his voice, singing me a song
And I cannot help but listen, even knowing that it’s wrong.
For I know who this is, and I have seen him before
But even though I know his darkness, the voice nails me to the floor.
His songs are sweet as poison; there are hidden meanings through
But so elegant the voice that sings them, that I know not what to do.
He has not come in many nights, and so I cannot sleep
Hoping against reason, that his voice I might could keep.
But now he comes to show his form, and I cannot help but sigh
For so long have I know but his voice, and now our meeting’s nigh.
So when I see him standing, beneath my balcony
I cannot help but join him, longing to be free.
Then I see the others, that hide in the forest below
And feeling now a fear, I hesitate to go.
Then I hear his voice once more, and once more I am bound
For while it is a spell he weaves, the words are so profound.
In the darkness they call to me, nothing but my name
And I cannot help but answer, even knowing why they came.
The moon has not risen, and the stars are far away
But before the coming light…I will leave before the day.
And soon they are all around me, a chorus in the night
And I take the leader’s hand, and give in without a fight.
Then I look beside me, and see that two are there
One is made of fire, the other of nightmare.
But I look to the leader, a child of darkness born,
And he is made of silver, and of a rose’s thorn.
And I think that I know him, but I cannot see his face
Then he speaks to me, and his name I cannot place.
His voice is wrought of nothing, or the depth of pulsing blood
But the words are so exquisite that I am lost within their flood.
Then he pulls his hand from mine, and my cheek he does caress,
And I cannot help but turn the talk, to that I must digress.
But he turns the subject back, and his hand he does remain
And then I feel as falling, and then I feel the rain.
And then I see the moonlight, and then I see his face
And then I see his eyes, and in them I see grace.
Then at last, we arrive, at out destination
And I cannot help but feel so much admiration.
The walls are full of ivy, with roses overgrown
And in the middle an opening, to let the moon be shown.
Then I hear the words, coming from those around
Finally, at last, his purpose I have found.
For I am of the light, and they are of the dark
And with me among them, a balance they will spark.
But then I feel a danger, and realize I was wrong
He does not sing of harmony, but a darkness song.
But then I search within me, and I find something is there:
That while he will bring me darkness, I find I do not care.
© Copyright 2016 PromisedSword. All rights reserved.
Book / Romance
Book / Non-Fiction
Short Story / Romance
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